What Did You Do?
by Jaede Loriele Conlon
Summary: A retelling of the Strike, but with out Jack... Blink is the leader... and its got girl newsies... its much more historical, but at the sametime very fictional. Story is much bettah den da summary.
1. Prologue

Yesterday, I walked through the grave yard looking for something. Searching. Wondering what the purpose of life is. I looked at the inscriptions of different graves as I passed them. Some died young, others were old, but no matter the age, they are all dead, and I wonder to myself, what did they do during their life? Did they do something great? Was there a purpose to their life? Is there a purpose to mine? Then I saw it. A small grave stone, inscripted, and looking the same as the others. It was seemingly insignificant, but, as with all the others, I asked the same question. "What did you do? Was simple life at all important?" I sighed deeply, and looked about me. Here I was in a world of yesterdays searching for the answer to today. I looked back down at the grave stone. It didn't have any great words on it, and it wasn't a grave for some great person, but what little it said was enough.  
  
Louis Ballat  
  
A Newsie  
  
Always and Forever  
  
1884 -1902  
  
~*~ 


	2. The Strike Begins

Cries of, "Strike, Strike!" echoed through the streets of Manhattan, New York. Young boys from the ages of eight to seventeen gathered in front of the New York World Distribution office, raising their voices as one against Joseph Pulitzer, and William Randolph Hearst. These boys were newsies. Every morning they dragged themselves out of bed, and down to the Distribution office to buy their papers. Then they would spend all day hawking headlines, and selling their papes for a penny each. Until one day when Joseph Pulitzer raised the prices at the Distribution office...  
  
A young boy, about the age of seventeen, walked confidently up to the Distribution office and slammed down 50 cents on the counter. "A hundred papes!" he declared expecting the distribution officer, Mr. Wisel, to immediately hand him a hundred newspapers, but instead Mr. Wisel- Weasel as the newsies called him- counted out the coins and then shoved them back to Blink. "This ain't enough," he said, "its 60 cents a hundred."  
  
"Since when?" sneered Blink.  
  
"Since taday, wise guy." retorted Weasel. "If youse gots a problem with dat den talk ta Mistah Pulitzer." Blink glared at Weasel for a few moments, and when Weasel didn't back down Blink angrily grabbed his 50 cents and stomped a few feet away, beckoning for his newsies to follow him.  
  
"So. Blink, what we gonna do?" asked a young newsie named Boots.  
  
Blink looked down at Boots and ruffled his hair. "I don't know kid. Ise jist don't know." He shook his head, and sighed. "I can't believe dey'd do dis ta me, ta all of us. Ise jist can't believe it."  
  
"Dose bums are gonna bust me!" complained Racetrack, an Italian looking newsie. "I'm barely makin' a livin' right now. It jist ain't fair!" The voices of angry newsies rose through the streets.  
  
"Yea, it ain't fair."  
  
"What do dey think their doin'!"  
  
"It ain't like dey is da ones starvin', and sleepin' in da street!"  
  
A fight started, and Blink broke it up then yelled for silence. "Hey, hey ,hey! Watchya guys doin'? Ya think dis is gonna solve anything? Well it ain't. What we needs ta do is. whats da word? Strike! Dats it! We need ta strike!" declared Blink vehemently. "We'll send a message to the dose high an' mighty rich guys!" Silence followed this statement as the newsies soaked in everything that Blink had just said, but after only a few seconds they rose their voices as one in protest yelling, "Strike, strike!"  
  
"Wait! Wait! What are we doing we can't jist strike!" stated Dave Simmonds, a respected Manhattan newsie.  
  
"What do ya mean we can't?" asked Blink. "Dose trolley workers did it."  
  
"They had a union to support them. We jist can't rush into dis."  
  
"Okay, okay, let me think about it." Blink plunked down onto the steps near the distribution window. The newsies gathered around him waiting impatiently for his decision. "Ya done thinkin' yet, Blink?" grumbled Race.  
  
"Jist cool it Race!" This day hadn't turned out so great for Blink, and now he was in such a bad mood that he was snapping at his best friend. Just then the newsies parted as Blinks girl, Smudge, made her way towards him.  
  
Smudge was one of the few newsgirls, and a short one at that. Although, she was sixteen, she was only five feet tall. She wore men's pants and shirts, instead of dresses, and her reddish, brown hair was pulled back into one long braid. Her soft green eyes looked at Blink sympathetically as she sat down beside him. "Heya Blink," she said softly, "I hoid what happened." Blink looked up at Smudge. "Look Blink, ya do what you think is right, but don't jist do sumtin' cause youse is mad, do it 'cause youse cares."  
  
"Yeah, youse is right. A'right everybody, wese is gonna strike!" A loud shout of approval rose up from the newsies, and then died down when Blink stood up and waved his hands for every one to be quiet.  
  
"Okay, foist thing we needs ta do is get da woird out to all da odder newsies. I need you guys to be ambassadors and got tell the odders what we're doin'."  
  
"Hey, I'll get Da Bronx!" yelled Mush.  
  
"An' I'll go with 'im!" Crutchy, and Mush walked off together heading for the Bronx, their faces filled with excitement.  
  
"Me an' Skits got Queens!" cried Boots, and the two headed off.  
  
"Okay," said Blink, "so who gots Brooklyn?" Suddenly the crowd grew quiet, and Blink searched the crowd of newsies for some takers. Finding none he called out, "Come on, what's wrong with Brooklyn? Ya all scared or sumtin'?"  
  
"Hey, how 'bout you go ta Brooklyn, Blink!" retorted Race. Blink stared at Race for a few seconds and then relented, "A'right, Race, you 'n me, we'll go ta Brooklyn, an' Smudge kin come along."  
  
"Hey, Jinx is comin' too den!" argued Smudge. Blink just shrugged his shoulders.  
  
"So Blink, when are ya gonna take da demands ta Pulitzer?" inquired Dave with an impish grin on his face. Blink looked in shock at Dave and said, "Me, to Pulitzer?"  
  
"Well, yeah, you're da leadah right? So you ought ta be da one to go tell Pulitzer to put da price back where it was." replied Dave. Blink looked up at the tall New York World building and gulped. "Fine." He said sharply. Blink slowly walked across the street to the World building with Dave, Jinx, Race, and Smudge following him, and went inside. A few moments later he came out, yelling back, "You tell Joe that we want the price back where it was!" Then turning to face his four friends he shrugged his shoulders and grinned, "Well, dat went well."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it went wonderful, Blink." replied Smudge, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Jist wonderful, now, are we going ta Brooklyn taday, or not?" Blink playfully knocked her hat off her head, and then started running in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. Smudge chased for a while, but finally stopped, to tired to run any further. They spent the rest of the morning walking to Brooklyn, talking and joking on the way.  
  
When they finally reached Brooklyn they went directly to where they knew Spot Conlon, the leader of Brooklyn, would be.  
  
"Heya Spot, how's it rollin'?" Blink greeted.  
  
"Da usual," replied Spot with a smirkish grin. "'Cept Ise hearin' dat youse playin' like youse goin' on strike." Spot said as he jumped of his makeshift throne, which consisted only of piled up crates, and sauntered over to Blink and his friends. Suddenly Smudge's fiery temper got the best of her and she blurted out, "Yeah, Yeah! Is dat what ya hoid? Well, as a mattah of fact, we IS goin' on strike, an' we ain't jist playin'!" Spot squinted his eyes at her, and began a stare down between himself and Smudge; in which Spot finally won.  
  
"So, I hoid youse is gettin' newsies from all over New York ta join."  
  
"Yeah, well, we are, an' we came ta ask ya if you would join too." Blink practically begged. Spot evaluated Blink, then turned and walked a few feet away. He then turned abruptly and pointed his black, bronze headed cane at Blink.  
  
"Yeah, I'll join, but only 'cause its fer a noble cause." Then Blink spit in his hand and held it out for a shake, Spot did the same, and they shook hands sealing the deal.  
  
"Good, we is havin' a meetin' in Central Park tomorrow ta establish da leadah's an' all dat."  
  
Spot nodded his head. "Ise'll be dere, along wid as many Brooklyn boys as Ise kin git." Blink smiled and nodded his head.  
  
"See ya latah den." Called Blink as he turned to leave, beckoning for Smudge, Jinx, and Race to follow.  
  
"Latah Conlon!" smirked Smudge as she turned to follow Blink. Spot Smirked back at her and then turned back to his makeshift throne.  
  
"An' Blink, take care of dat Smart Mouth that tags along with ya."  
  
"Yeah, sure, whatevah ya say Spot." 


End file.
